Both of Us
by Isabeau1
Summary: Nod is moody, Ronin is on the verge of a panic attack, and they should probably really talk about what happened. A look at the aftermath of loosing and nearly loosing people you love.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one:** When it Rains it Pours

Nod's father had died at the edge of a boggan blade and his mother had in many ways died the same day. She had lingered for a while, tried to stay for her son, but in the end her grief was bigger than she was, and of all the things the queen could heal, a broken heart wasn't one of them.

Ronin had been a steady part of his life for as long as he could remember; his father's best friend who had always had a pat on the head and sometimes a story for him, and the one who still noticed him when his mother's grief had rendered him all but invisible.

To feel invisible to him now was terrifying, like the sudden drop when the branch snapped, and there was nothing left below but the ground. He felt like he was out of branch and yes, he would like a ride, although, maybe it was too late for that.

Ronin had never really been hard to live with. His mother had died when he was in his late teens and there hadn't been anywhere else for him to go. They had never talked about it, never planned; no one's permission was asked. It had simply been a given. For a general, Ronin's apartments were surprisingly small. He had pulled the books out of the study he never used, and it had become Nod's room. There hadn't been much adjusting, a few squabbles here and there, mostly about Nod leaving things laying around on the floor, usually clothes, occasionally armor as he got older. Ronin had still had stories for him over dinner and about million tips on how to get every kind of sap, gunk, slime, mold, mud, and rot off of armor.

The armor Ronin had worn on the summer solstice was still piled in a corner of the front room. Their armor was designed to resist rot, but nothing ever stopped it completely. It had gotten all the way through his chest plate and into his padded undershirt. Nod shuttered every time he spotted it. He had thought about trying to salvage parts from it, armor odds and ends were always useful, but it wasn't his armor. He was considering toeing it out onto their balcony and seeing if Ronin noticed.

Grief was a tricky thing. He was trying to be good for Ronin, to make it easier for him. He had tried to be good for his mother and it hadn't helped. If he resigned tomorrow and went back to bird racing, would Ronin come after him? Would he even notice? Nod wasn't sure he was brave enough to find out.

Not that he wanted to go back to bird racing. He had always wanted to be a Leafman, even when he was small, and Ronin was right, he was cut out for it. Things had just gotten tangled for a while. There was still a certain unease inside him, the idea that to be both connected and an individual was a tricky, possibly painful thing, and he might not really want it. In some ways, he didn't seem to have much of a choice. When leaves fell off the tree, they withered and died.

He hadn't realized how much attention Ronin gave him until he wasn't giving him any at all. He hadn't even commented when Nod had turned down the new queen's commission to captain. She meant well, but Nod had only been a private, and he not only lacked the experience to be a captain, he didn't really want that sort of responsibility. It was the queen's prerogative to commission whoever she wanted, just like it was his prerogative to not accept that commission.

He had expected Ronin to say something about it, although he wasn't sure what. Anything would have been a relief. Either, Ronin didn't think he was officer material yet, or at all, and should have been happy he turned it down, or he thought he was an idiot and should have taken it, because really, who in their right mind would ever promote Nod to an officer after they got to know him. He hadn't even mentioned it though, and Nod had to wonder if he just didn't care.

He couldn't do anything about the promotion to sergeant. He could refuse commissions, but he had no say in his enlisted rank. If Captain Terrance called him 'sarge' one more time though, he was going to shove him off his bird. Attempted homicide might just get Ronin's attention after all.

Nod stared up at the ceiling of their apartment. It was dark and late and Ronin wasn't home. He had 14 stitches in his arm and a cracked rib from a run in his group had had with a boggan swarm. Without Mandrake they were more a nuisance than a strategic military threat, but they still were causing trouble and had to be dealt with.

It was the first time Nod could remember that Ronin hadn't shown up at the healers' ward when he was hurt. Usually he got there before Nod did, intent on chastising him for being stupid, which to be fair, was usually how he ended up hurt. It hadn't been his fault this time. It was just battle collateral, and more annoying than anything, especially because he would be off duty until the stitches came out.

He felt childish and petty and selfish. He knew what it was like to lose people you loved. He knew what it was like to not want to care about anyone or anything, because the risk of losing them seemed to outweigh any benefit that might be gained by caring. He knew what it was like to have your world go grayscale and flat in an instant, and he knew Ronin was trying his best to cope. His mother had tried her best too, and it hadn't been enough, and sometimes, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't stop the nagging, painful stab of resentment that welled up in him for that. He hadn't been enough, and that never stopped hurting.

If he wasn't enough for Ronin…

Nod shoved himself off the couch with an angry grunt. He was not going to sit alone in the dark and sulk. He was off duty. He could be anywhere.

Grabbing his jacket and buckling his short sword over his shoulder, Nod headed to the rookery. He had a stomper who would be more than happy to pay attention to him.

* * *

Ronin rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. It had been a long day. Granted, everyday had felt like a long day since...

Queen Marigold was settling into her new role with enthusiasm. Sometimes a little too much enthusiasm. She wanted to do everything right away, help everyone as soon as she heard they needed it, and he couldn't seem to make her understand that her safety was important, not just to her, but to the whole forest. Nod had reminded him more than once that for all that she was queen, she was also a child, and he should expect her to act like one occasionally.

Nod. Ronin realized with a start that he hadn't reviewed the patrol reports for the day. When Nod had started going out on patrol, he had made it a point to always check them as soon as they came in, partly to make sure Nod hadn't caused any trouble for his CO, but mostly to make sure he had come back safely.

He cared about all of his Leafmen. He wanted them all home safely, and he would do whatever it took to make sure that happened, but Nod was his responsibility in a particular way. It wasn't just that Soren had asked him to take care of him. Nod had always been his in some sense. He had known him since he was born, had been the first person besides his parents to hold him, and would have given anything to have let him grow up with his father there to look out for him. There were times Nod reminded him so much of Soren that it hurt.

His office was more a store room for paperwork than a space he actually used. His desk was stacked high with reports, proposals, requests, and personnel files. Finn knew to put the patrol reports on top. There were a lot of things Finn knew to do without being asked, and Ronin was grateful for that.

He nudged the glow worm awake and collapsed into his chair with an exhausted groan. Maybe he would take a day off. Finn had been hinting that he needed one. Glory, the head healer, had been threatening to put him on forced leave. Nod would think that was funny anyway.

Nod's group was on top. Finn must have shuffled it there. It was more a playful jab than an attempt to be helpful. The captain had come from a large family, and he was endlessly amused by the sheer amount of frustration Nod managed to cause the general. Apparently, in large families you got used to people being idiots.

And Nod was an idiot sometimes. Other times he was unexpectedly, infuriatingly brilliant. In some ways that was even more frustrating. How someone could have so much potential and be so stupid was beyond him. Tara had caught the edges of their fights more than once and laughed at him, reminding him that at Nod's age they had done just as many stupid things. At Nod's age, Tara hadn't been queen yet, just a fellow Leafman, and they…

Ronin pushed the memories away viciously and snapped up the reports. While boggan activity was scattered, there had been a few serious skirmishes here and there. Eventually, they would regroup under a new leader, but he doubted it would be anyone as powerful as Mandrake. Probably not as smart either. Boggans weren't exactly known for their intelligence.

Ronin looked down at the report and suddenly couldn't breathe. His heart clenched, and for an instant, he was too panicked to do anything. Wounded were listed at the top of every report, and Nod's name was on the list.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two:** Every Night Ends with Dawn

Mk definitely qualified as the best part of what was turning out to be a long and trying day. He had happily distracted her from her homework for few hours before taking off for home. Apparently, stompers' schooling was based on their age. They had to go until they were eighteen. It seemed a little arbitrary to Nod. Jinn went to school until they had learned what they needed to know. If you were a Leafman, it sometimes felt like you were perpetually in school because the training never ended.

That was a happy thought at least. He didn't have to report in for the morning training, even if he did make it back by morning. The night sky had just been starting to cloud over when he had left MK's, and he had thought he could make it home before the rain, but the late summer storm had blown in more quickly than he anticipated, and he had had to take shelter with his bird in the hollow of a tree. At least he hadn't been on a hummer. Wrens weren't as quick or agile, but they were better for poor weather.

He huddled against his bird's soft feathers, both of them dripping a bit, and wondered if Ronin had noticed he was gone yet. He sort of hoped he hadn't, that he had gone to bed without checking to see if Nod was in bed himself. That way he wouldn't worry. A part of him though hoped that he had noticed, that at the very least, if he were to suddenly disappear, Ronin would notice he was gone.

There had been times after his father died, and after he was old enough to not be afraid of the dark, that he would disappear for days into the forest, explore nooks and crannies he hadn't found yet, track animals and watch the way they moved and behaved, chase the birds and try to tame them.

The first time he had done it, Ronin had come to find him. It had taken him two days to track Nod down, not because Nod was trying to hide, but because Ronin hadn't even known where to start looking. It had been the first time Nod had ever really seen Ronin angry, and he had been a bit too awestruck to respond, not because he had been intimidated, but because it had been so very obvious that Ronin cared.

His mother hadn't even noticed he was gone.

The next time Nod had gone, he had told Ronin before he left. Ronin had told him 'no,' and he had gone anyway. He had ridden lazily on the antlers of a deer for miles before the general had caught up with him, looking ready to drag him home by the ear. There hadn't, at that point, been much Ronin could do beyond scold him, but he excelled at that.

The next time he left, Ronin had come with him. He had shown him how to get honey from the hive without upsetting the bees, and the difference between natural decay and the unnatural rot the boggans caused. He had told him stories about his dad and about his early days with the Leafmen. For a while, every time Nod wandered into the forest, Ronin would come with him. He used it as a kind of bargaining tool. If Nod would wait a few days until he finished this or that, he would come, and so Nod would wait.

Eventually he got older, and Ronin's confidence in his ability to not get himself killed grew, and he stopped coming. Nod missed it. He doubted there was any way he could get him to do it now, although a few days away from Moonhaven might have done him some good.

Thunder rumbled heavily through the woods, and Nod groaned and flopped onto his back. His arm hurt, and his ribs ached, and he just wanted to go to sleep. Sleeping, though, wouldn't have been a very good idea. This area of the forest had had fairly consistent boggan activity, and the wet seemed to always draw them out. He had no desire to wake up to a boggan's ugly face, or worse, not wake up at all. Ronin really would be angry about that.

He hoped he would, anyway.

* * *

"Ronin, you can't go out. It's pouring," Finn did his best to sound calm and reasonable, particularly because his general was neither of those things at the moment.

"And Nod is out in it," Ronin pulled a sparrow towards the entrance of the rookery.

"Nod is probably asleep," Finn countered, catching the bird's reins and stopping both it and Ronin from going any farther, "either he's at the stompers' and he'll stay there the rest of the night, or he's holed up in a tree, and he'll wait for the storm to clear. Nod can handle a little rain."

"He's hurt," Ronin insisted, trying to tug the straps from Finn's grip.

He hadn't looked hurt when he had left or Finn wouldn't have let him go. At the very least, he would have mentioned it to Ronin. He had been more than a little surprised when Ronin had shown up in the rookery looking frantic. Ronin was never frantic. Apparently, when he had found out Nod was injured he had gone to the healers', only to be told they had sent Nod home hours ago, and when he had gone home he had found him gone. By the time he had gotten to the rookery he had worked himself into a panic.

Finn decided Ronin needed sleep. Needed it desperately, because even when it involved Nod, he was usually more level headed than this. He wasn't sure he had gotten much sleep since Tara's death. It had been a few weeks before he had been able to bully Glory into clearing him for duty, and it might have been a little soon, but he had driven her to madness with his constant nagging to be cleared. Finn thought he might have learned that from Nod.

He had thrown himself back into his duties with a vengeance. He didn't think Ronin had made it home before dark once since then. There were some nights Finn didn't think he made it home at all. Maybe Nod could talk him into taking a few days off when he got back.

"He's not that hurt," Finn tried to reassure him, "and Nod is good with these sorts of things."

"Nod is an idiot," Ronin said flatly.

It was everything Finn could do not to double over laughing, because if he had, Ronin would have taken advantage of it and been gone.

"Yes, he is," Finn agreed, "but not about things like this."

"I can't just sit here," Ronin growled.

"Yes, you can," Finn said firmly, but not without sympathy.

He remembered wanting desperately to go out looking for his younger sister when her group had failed to report in, and Ronin had said the same thing to him and refused to let him go. At the time, he had been furious, but Ronin had been right. If he had gone out looking, he would have missed his sister's group when they came back in, and they would have had to go out looking for him. They would have been chasing each others' tails.

"What if he's in trouble?" Ronin countered.

"Then you can't do anything about it until the rain let's up," Finn said patently.

Ronin scowled at him but relented, releasing the reins of his bird.

* * *

It was dawn by the time Nod got back to Moonhaven. He was exhausted. It had rained heavily all night, and he hadn't slept at all. It was still raining actually, but it had lessened to a drizzle, and he had been too tired to wait for it to stop completely. He was looking forward to dry clothes and a warm bed, and hopefully no lectures from Ronin. Nod had never had a curfew, but Ronin got antsy when he was out all night.

That all depended on whether or not Ronin had noticed he was gone.

"Nod!"

Nod's feet were barely on the ground before Ronin had grabbed him, hands running over him frantically as if looking for injuries.

"Um, hi?" Nod winced slightly when Ronin's hand brushed over his injured arm.

"Are you alright?" Ronin cradled his head in his hands, turning it slightly as if looking for wounds, then brushed back his wet hair and used his thumb to rub a streak of dirt off his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Nod frowned, more than a little confused, "I just got caught out in the rain storm, and I had to wait for it to let up."

"Let's get you checked out by the healers," Ronin's hands dropped to grip his shoulders firmly.

"Ronin, I'm alright. I don't need to go to the healers'. I already did that once today, well yesterday, but still," Nod shifted back slightly. "I just need some dry clothes and a nap."

Ronin looked down at him and seemed to finally actually see him. His grip on his shoulders loosened, and some of the franticness left his eyes.

"Alright," Ronin's breath shook slightly as he released it, "let's go home."

"Yeah, just let me bed down my bird," Nod turned back to his mount, who had been waiting patiently with all her feathers fluffed up to their fullest.

"I'll get it," Finn was suddenly there, taking the reins from Nod's hand.

"Um," Finn looked like he was asking for a favor, so Nod released the reins to him, "thanks."

"Welcome," Finn looked distinctly relieved.

"Let's go," Ronin's arm fell heavy around Nod's shoulders, and he pulled him tightly to his side, then glanced over his head at his second in command, "Finn, I'm taking the rest of the day off."

Nod made a soft surprised sound, but Finn managed to keep his expression neutral.

"I'll take care of it," Finn assured him.

"Thanks," Ronin almost smiled, "for everything."

"Anytime," Finn waved them off with a grin.

* * *

"Go get dry," Ronin gave him an unnervingly gentle shove towards the bedrooms.

"That sounds really nice," Nod resisted the urge to track water through the apartment, instead stopping to pull his boots off.

Usually, Ronin complained about things like water on the floor, but apparently he wasn't in a complaining mood. It was actually more than a little unsettling that he hadn't chided Nod at all. That was his usual reaction to Nod upsetting him, whether it had been intentional or not.

Nod took a second to undo the two highest side buckles on Ronin's armor before heading to his room to get changed. They were the hardest to reach, and maybe Ronin would take the hint and take his armor off instead of standing in the entry way staring at Nod.

Ronin's behavior was strange enough that Nod hurried to get changed. It had been a while since Ronin had really seemed like himself. He knew it wasn't fair of him to expect everything to be the way it was, but he couldn't help wanting things to be normal again. Nothing had felt right since Wraithwood, and probably nothing had felt right for Ronin since Tara's death.

He gave his sadly un-slept in bed a longing look. He could avoid all of this for another day by just going to sleep. Ronin wouldn't wake him, and tomorrow it would be like nothing happened. That didn't seem like a very good solution though, even if he didn't have any others. Plus, he had to go back out anyway. The bandage around his arm had gotten wet, and he needed to re-wrap it.

He tossed on a sleeveless shirt and a loose pair of pants and returned to the front room to find that Ronin had gotten all his armor off and was sitting on the couch looking pensive. The scars and marks from the fight with Mandrake were still clear on his bare arms. There was a particularly disturbing scar at the joint of his neck and shoulder that ran across his collar bone and dipped under the neck of his shirt.

"You alright?" Nod asked.

Ronin's head snapped up, and he stared at him for a split second before zeroing in on the stitches in his arm, "I'm fine. I'll wrap that for you."

Nod flopped down gracelessly on the couch and let Ronin go find the bandages. Ronin's movements were stiffer than usual, and his shoulders were slumped, which almost elected a round of teasing from Nod. He couldn't count the number of times Ronin had told him to stand up straight. Granted, posture was important for sword work, but that hadn't made it any less annoying.

Ronin sat back down beside him and took his arm, examining the cut and the stitches closely, "was this from a boggan?"

"No," Nod yawned, "it was from a tree branch. It was totally the boggan's fault though."

Nod expected a laugh or at least an eye roll, but he didn't get either.

"I didn't check the reports," Ronin said tightly as he began wrapping Nod's arm, "I always check patrol reports as soon as they come in, but I didn't even think about it until after dark."

"Terrance would have told you if I had really been hurt," Nod shrugged; Ronin was the closest thing he had to next of kin and pretty much everyone knew it.

"But you were hurt!" Ronin snapped, "and I didn't even know. You weren't at the healers', and you weren't at home, and then…"

He cut himself off abruptly, his hands shaking as he worked on Nod's arm.

"Ronin," Nod leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his eye, "I'm alright. Really."

He was used to Ronin worrying about him. He was used to lectures and eye rolls and cuffs to the back of the head. He wasn't used to this, and he didn't like it.

"But you could have not been," Ronin insisted, "anywhere along the way you could have…" he trailed off, unable to finish.

"Yeah, well at least I didn't decide to play tag with the boggans at Wraithwood," the words were out before Nod could stop himself, and he winced as soon as he said them.

Ronin looked up at him sharply, his hands freezing on his arm.

"Sorry," Nod mumbled, looking away.

Ronin tied off the bandage without saying anything, then cupped Nod's head and pulled him against his shoulder. Nod shifted without resistance, tucking his bare feet against the arm rest and curling into the hollow of Ronin's side.

"I'm alright too," Ronin said softly, resting his chin on top of Nod's head.

"I thought you were dead," Nod's voice broke unexpectedly, and he turned his face to hide against Ronin's shoulder.

Ronin brought his other arm up to wrap around him and just sat for a while, one hand absently rubbing his arm. He had given him piggyback rides when he was small. The night after his father had died he had held him until dawn. Nod was his, and he wasn't going to dance around that the way he and Tara had always danced around each other.

"We're going to be alright kiddo," Ronin ducked down to press his forehead against Nod's, "both of us."

"Okay," Nod replied huskily.

Ronin pressed a kiss to his hair and tucked his head back under his chin, then shifted until he was comfortable, feet on the coffee table and Nod resting against his side. He listened as Nod's breathing evened out and deepened, and felt him go gradually lax against him. He should probably get him up and into his own bed, but he was finding he didn't really have the energy for that. He would sleep just as well here as anywhere. They both would.

Later they could talk about Wrathwood and close calls and what was gone and what was still there. For now, they were both going to be just fine.


End file.
